


The Exorcism of Cafe LeBlanc

by MagicMaddie



Series: Persona 5 One-Offs [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Demonic Possession, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exorcisms, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Ouija
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27315898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicMaddie/pseuds/MagicMaddie
Summary: Ryuji attempts to prove himself to fellow Phantom Thieves. As he optimistically rushes to Cafe LeBlanc on a clear Halloween night, it never seems to cross the plucky young man that something will go awry.Even so, it's worth the risk to prove his courage and status to everyone else...right?
Series: Persona 5 One-Offs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637260
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	The Exorcism of Cafe LeBlanc

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone! I hope my first-ever Halloween fic is, rather than spooky or violent, more heartfelt and dramatic. After reading, be sure to look at my ending notes. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: DO NOT TRY USING A OUIJA BOARD! I'm not one for many superstitions, but it's always better to be safe than sorry. In general, they're super serious hazards, if not a waste of time and money. 
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

They always say it’s a dark and stormy night, but this Halloween was clear and starry. If Japan had the Western tradition of “trick or treating,” this might’ve been the perfect night for kids to go door to door in their cosplays.

Yet, this was Japan, where Halloween commercialism and cosplay refused to fail from a difference that may seem shocking to the common American. 

For the majority of Shibuya, in particular, a business opportunity was at hand. 

Yet, in the humble district of Yongen-Jaya, where a lone teenager hastily jogged from the train station, a different kind of opportunity was at hand. 

Ryuji Sakamoto, with a blanketed tablet in scooped arm, skidded to a halt before the cafe door he knew all too well. Sojiro Sakura, the owner of Cafe LeBlanc, had closed down the shop for him and his group of friends. 

Usually, Ryuji could manage a good distance without almost passing out. This time, his breathless pants were louder and longer, and his heart pulsed faster than ever before. 

The opportunity’s strike was nigh. 

* * *

“You _idiot_ !” Morgana hissed. “Do you not comprehend what _sarcasm_ is?! You even imported this from the _United States_?!”

“Yeah, well,” Ryuji snapped at the cat, “your ‘sarcasm’ sucks! I’d still have bigger balls than you, even if I _didn’t_ do this shit!”

“Knock it off, you two!” Ann Takamaki growled, adjusting the plastic, pink devilish horns atop her head. “But, still, Ryuji. You should’ve known that _that_ occult stuff is dangerous.”

“Agreed,” Makoto Niijima, fidgeting with her blue-painted hands, huffed with exhaustion.

Morgana sat upright, his chin high and arrogant. 

“Yeah,” he sneered. “What Makoto and _Lady Ann_ said!”

Ryuji snuck another glare at the cat he so desired to finally punt. Knowing that he wanted to hold back _at least_ one more time, he restrained himself once more. 

Ren Amamiya turned from the window, garbed in the robes of a great wizard, and lowered his chin to the uncovered tablet on the floor of his attic. He had heard the frightening, yet fantastical tales of the Ouija board. They had him paranoid of Halloween nights until he found his power of the Wildcard.

Even so, not even his powers could fight his anxiety at the sight of the pristine wooden tablet and its accompanying planchette. 

“Should we _try_ this?” he murmured, thinking he was quiet enough. 

But he wasn’t quiet enough. 

“We have to!” Ryuji exclaimed, before tilting his head upward with courage. “Also, I’m gonna insult them spirits for _all_ the crap they put us through!”

Futaba Sakura cackled, her leg swooping upward from her brief hysteria. Her costume’s dangling tentacles wiggled in the sweep.

“You can’t be _that_ dumb, Ryuji!” she howled. “You have to be a serious knucklehead to think you can even talk with the dead.”

“To be fair,” Haru Okumura chimed in, “you can consider our Personas to be a part of ‘the dead.’”

Yusuke Kitagawa, adjusting the wispy headband on his head, glanced curiously at Ryuji’s simple, yet unusually classy, even sexy, garbs.

“You’re not wearing your pirate costume?” he inquired softly.

Ryuji hastily shook his head.

“That big hunk of cloth was too loose,” he sneered, tucking at the collar of his pure-white dress shirt. “But Imma take this _real_ serious! I’m gonna be a serious badass tonight!”  
  


Ann rolled her eyes, adjusting her succubus tail in the full-length mirror. 

“For real,” she snidely deadpanned. 

Looking for an ounce of support, Ryuji briskly turned his head left and right. Everyone was either skeptical or downright uncaring.  
  


_I’m really the punching bag, aren’t I?_

More often than not, Ryuji could handle being the brunt of everyone’s jokes. He even found his own goofy antics to be counterable, anyways. For all the times the group degraded his pseudo ego, turning down his ideas and chastising his (nearly) every move, he was usually quick to dismiss it and move on for the greater good.

Yet tonight, exhaustion boiled from within the depths of him. After countless names and slapstick moves, Ryuji felt...tired. 

His mind’s thoughts swirled and melded together in the awkward tension. Was it personal now? Was this silence, one so conflicting and so off-kilter, the _sign_? 

The sign that he was useless? The sign that he wasn’t helpful enough? Not good enough? 

Something inside him was screaming. Something took domain in his head. _Enough...Enough...ENOUGH! NO MO -_

“Why not?” a baritone voice lanced through the awkward suspense. 

Ryuji, realizing he was looking at Morgana, turned up to face Ren. The other man didn’t have his trademark cocky smile, but he seemed to shrug off his evident worry from before. 

“No harm in humoring Ryuji,” he muttered, loud enough to set off shrugs and sad grins in everyone. 

Futaba huffed in exasperation.

“You all probably haven’t seen a horror movie in your life,” she groaned. “But if we do this, and somebody dies or is possessed by something, _don’t_ come crying to me!”

As everyone slowly gathered around the Ouija board, lacking uniform or conviction, Futaba was the last to jump off Ren’s humble bed. 

Rather than join the rest of the group, however, the young woman marched to the stairs, heedless of the tentacles that dangled off her alien costume and onto the floor. 

“You guys do that,” she huffed, “and _I_ am going to get some holy water!”

Morgana’s blue eyes shot up at the girl by the staircase. 

“Holy water?!” he cried. 

Futaba turned and nodded, almost in fantastical animation. 

“You heard me,” she snapped. “If we’re going to ‘humor’ Ryuji, then I’m getting a bunch of stuff for when the whatever-it-is snatches his body.”

Something about the threat made Ryuji’s insides turn nauseous.

“Maybe,” he mumbled, “we should let somebody do that.”

The young blond wasn’t surprised that Morgana sneered with the opportunity a second afterwards. 

“Is somebody going to chicken out?” Ryuji heard Morgana jeer. “You know - “

“Nope!” Ryuji blurted, stomping his foot near the cat’s tail. “I ain’t a chicken! We’re doing this!”

Futaba rolled her eyes and skipped down the stairs. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” she melodiously hollered back. “I’ll tell Sojiro if you do!”

Seconds after watching Futaba prance down from the attic, Ryuji turned to the rest of the group. Haru, dressed in a delicate candy dress, had just gracefully plopped down on her knees to join the rest of the group. 

An opening between her and Ann was clearly reserved just for Ryuji. 

Ryuji crept forward to his place in the circle. If he couldn’t back out, he wanted to stretch and warm up for the main event of the night. Yet, that wouldn’t be an option in the beady eyes of Morgana, lacking a costume much like Ryuji, and proudly throned between Ann and Ren. 

As Ryuji collapsed to his knees, the circle complete, he heard Ann give a soft, playful giggle.  
  


“You actually look,” she hesitated, “ _kinda_ spiffy, Ryuji. Maybe sexy, even.”

“He’s taking this too seriously,” Yusuke haughtily puffed. “Though yes, his attire is quite nice. The clean black of the pants contrasts the pure white of the shirt. Considering our situation, he feels like a sacrificial lamb, just anxious - “

“A’ight, shut it, Inari!” Ryuji barked, stealing a name from the absent Futaba’s own vocabulary. “We ain’t going past giving the ‘spirits’ the middle finger and a _big_ ‘eff’ you!’”

Makoto, garbed in the torn clothes of an undead police officer, sighed and shook her head slowly.

“This is going to be unfortunate,” she mumbled. 

Disheartened by the lack of supporting hands, Ryuji’s eyelids fluttered shut.

* * *

_Hm-hmm..._

Futaba hummed familiar tunes as the train moved along. She was glad that Sojiro provided her with plenty of money for a trip from Yongen-Jaya to Kanda, then from Kanda to Akihabara (just for a few more pieces of equipment, and _maybe_ a game), and all the way back to Yongen-Jaya again. 

Futaba couldn’t think much of the other things she wanted outside of things she could use to hunt a ghost or demon. 

Above all, she was scared she was too mean to Ryuji. The wiry boy was clumsy, dumb, and irrational. But she still loved him like family, just like the rest. Mona was far meaner to him than Futaba could ever be, but she had no doubt Mona was the “tough love” kind of character. 

She hoped Mona’s dare didn’t just seal Ryuji Sakamoto’s fate. 

_Don’t put us in_ The Exorcist _or_ The Grudge, _Ryuji_ , she prayed to herself, knowing that a god couldn’t save the boy from his extreme antics.

* * *

“Everyone,” Ryuji lightly commanded, “put your pointer finger on the...thing.”

“The planchette, you mean?” Yusuke clarified, placing his own finger on the large, heart-shaped chip. 

“Yeah,” Ryuji sighed, cautiously following suit. 

Ann followed, then Ren, then Haru. It took a second before Makoto’s dainty finger and Morgana’s tiny paw concluded the first command. 

With the lights now dim, the air grew chilled, almost misty. 

“What now?” Makoto sadly groaned. “This is getting weird already.”

One second passed. Ryuji’s eyes shot open, darting around at the whole group.

“I,” he muttered, “don’t know what we say.”

The tension was gone, though an awkward passing came again. 

It wasn’t long before Ren sighed, closing his dark eyes. Ren’s handsome face seemed relaxed, so Ryuji closed his own eyelids once more.

“I’ll try something,” Ren ordered. “Everyone keep quiet.” 

A pause. Yet another damned pause after countless halts in speaking. Yet Ren proceeded to break that silence:

“Spirit, hear our plea. Come and visit us, the Phantom Thieves.”

The following silence would’ve been aggravating if not for Ren’s call. His soothing, velvety voice echoed in Ryuji’s ears. Indeed, Ren’s wizard costume fit his leadership well. 

And Ren went again, if only just a little louder than before:

“ _Spirit_ , hear our plea. Come and visit us, the Phantom Thieves.”

Only a second passed before the once-calming voice bellowed:

“ _SPIRIT, hear our plea! COME and visit us, the Phantom Thieves!_ ”

Although everyone didn’t jump, their eyes shot open and darted to Ren. His face was calm, though his lips were parted, and his chest rose and fell greater and faster.

Seconds passed. 

_One._ Ann’s electric-blue eyes moved away from Ren, quickly turning to Makoto, then Haru, then fell on Ryuji.

_Two._ After Yusuke had spent all night tinkering with the pathetic LED lights in his ghost costume’s headband, the lights finally flickered on. They dimly glowed the same blue as Ann’s eyes.

_Three_. Nothing…

Until a hideous, nasally cackle pulled them all out of the trance. 

“I _knew_ it wouldn’t work!” Morgana, owner of the scrawny laugh, jeered to Ryuji. “See? Monkey Man over here - “

_Urch_. 

A wooden scrape gently rasped in the center. Though it was a benign sound, the sight of the planchette moving toward the ‘H’ stole everyone’s breaths. 

Everyone could see that everyone’s finger (or paw, in the case of Mona) was still on the large chip. 

“Keep still, everyone,” Makoto breathlessly shuddered. 

“I didn’t move it!” Morgana hissed. 

“I never said you - “

Another fidget. From ‘H’ to ‘E.’ 

“Is everyone keeping still?” Haru softly whimpered.  
  


“I-I-I’m sure I am!” Ann cried, her pearly teeth chattering. 

  
Ryuji would’ve noted the beauty of Ann’s long hair dancing with the breeze...if the breeze wasn’t so odd. No windows were open on the floor. 

A sharp turn brought Ryuji’s gaze back down to the Ouija board, as the planchette’s glass eye moved to ‘L.’

Though Ryuji trembled, if only for a moment, he glared at the moving chip. 

_I got this,_ Ryuji affirmed in his head. _I_ have _to have got this!_

* * *

“Mwehehehe!” Futaba snickered, closing her sixteen-ounce water bottle’s worth of holy water. 

Just moments ago, she had almost panicked at the Kanda church’s priest catching her. She was quite lucky that his kindness permitted her that great filling of what could save her friends in the worst case scenario. 

She looked at her cannoned arm, noting the necklace that chained the silver crucifix. 

“These Jesus-loving people care more for their figurehead’s death than rebirth,” she mumbled. “But, maybe there’s an excuse...ah, well!”

She pranced back to the station, hustling for her next destination: Akihabara.

The sprint wasn’t without her panting perversions.

“Let’s see...one of the seven deadly sins is lust...most demons have _gotta_ be really kinky, then. So, we can get some rope to tie them down and then - wait, that should be about it. After the rope, let’s get an old book that looks like a Bible. We can look up actual Latin incantations...and then…”

* * *

“HELLO.”

It was odd that nobody had taken their finger off the planchette after it moved around to spell out the common greeting. 

To make it weirder yet, everyone was merely sweaty and wide-eyed as it slowly trekked back to the center of the board. 

Another awkward moment passed. 

“Are you...for real?” Ryuji gulped, struggling to fight back the chills crawling inside his body. 

Did _it_ hear him? 

It must’ve - for the planchette moved diagonally upward to a small “YES.”

Another quiet second allowed for the chip to move back, before Ryuji chimed in once more:  
  
“Are you a good guy?”

“Ryuji, stop!” Ann snapped. 

She wasn’t able to stop the chip from gliding to…

”NO.”

“Holy shit…” Ryuji gasped.

“W-w-we need to stop this!” Makoto yelled, her voice cracking once or twice. “We have to worry about stopping Sis, right? Remember?!”

“Should we not at least say ‘Goodbye’ to this _bad_ spirit?!” Yusuke retorted. 

“Does it matter?” Morgana snickered. “It’s obvious Blondie over there is trying to scare us!”

“I didn’t move it!” Ryuji argued.

“Well, _someone_ here did!” Morgana quipped back, as though he calculated Ryuji’s exact words. “And who is more likely to do it than the guy that’s so useless, he tries to scare everyone?!”

The moment Ryuji felt his insides roar, he yanked back his arm and leapt to his feet. 

“I DIDN’T EFFIN’ DO IT!”

“Ryuji, please!” Haru exclaimed.

The blond looked at the ginger-haired woman. But she wasn’t as serene as usual.

  
No...she looked mad. She looked annoyed, more so. 

Smirking, Morgana haughtily lifted his paw back and pivoted to face the stairs. 

“Well, how about some coffee? Maybe try apple cider?”

Another pause. Another damned, aggravating, all-too frequent pause. 

“That’d...actually be nice, Morgana!” Ann beamed, jumping to her own heeled feet.

Ryuji’s mouth dropped agape. His eyes darted to everyone else.

_Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes. Please don’t -_

Everyone took their hands off. Makoto was the first to graciously rise to stand, and everyone else followed suit. 

“But, we’ve gotta make it go away!” Ryuji cried out. He could feel a strange anger boiling, brimming to the top of his head.

Yusuke chuckled.

“Perhaps, you can?” he suggested, all too snarky for no good reason. “ _You were_ the only one talking to it.”

“Of course he was!” Morgana blurted. “Outside of being the clown of the group? He’s worthless!”

Ryuji’s wiry frame was still, but his heart took a punch _far_ too harsh to the average spirit.

He could feel Morgana’s little eyes - those ugly, goddamned, _evil_ eyes - look to him for something. He could’ve sworn Ren may have followed Mona’s gaze.

But Ryuji stood silent. 

The world around him was muffled. He may have pleaded for everyone to wait, but he couldn’t remember. 

Not as he fought more so to stop the tears starting to brim in his dark eyes. _Goddamnit!_ How could he be so stupid?!

_As if they didn’t deem him worthless already_. 

But when Ryuji’s full awareness of the world was put back in place...everyone was gone. A light cacophony of running water and hearty chatter rang from downstairs.

_Clown of the group. Worthless_. 

But, Ryuji knew all the same that he had taunted Morgana back then. Maybe Mona had every right to tell him such things…

No. Rather, tell him the truth as it is. 

After what seemed to be a minute of mindless silence, a breeze seemed to crash on Ryuji and pass through him.

_Worthless Ryuji. Ryuji Sakamoto: Clown of the Group_. 

Nothing told him to do so, but Ryuji gazed back down at the Ouija board.

A quiet, raspy voice whimpered from within the surface of his throat:

“Am I worthless to them?”

He could’ve been frightened by the clearly autonomous movement of the planchette. He should’ve been scared that this spirit _he alone_ invited could hear a single whisper. 

But that didn’t scare him as much as where the godforsaken chip moved to: “YES.”

He felt his legs underneath him give way. 

Suguru Kamoshida had made him feel hopeless and trapped once. That man broke Ryuji’s leg and made him a disgrace to all of Shujin Academy. Laying in a hospital bed, Ryuji had once felt like...this.

He never thought the people he called friends would make him feel that way again. 

Ryuji voicelessly mouthed “No,” and only then did he realize a tear was skidding down his jaw. 

_But man, Ryuji almost screwed us over._

That one jeer reached his murky mind. He couldn’t attach the voice to the person. All he knew was that voice was a burning emblem for familiarity and a hate so great for the poor, trembling blond.

“What have I done?” he quietly, yet sharply inhaled. 

_Who do I go to? Where can I be useful?_

_WHO WILL LOVE ME NOW?!_

Feeling a dark sensation crawl through him, Ryuji slowly lay himself on the ground. He couldn’t pay mind to the quiet sobs that racked his body. 

No one could save him. No one would _want_ to save him.

_Shhh...shhhh…_

The tempo of Ryuji’s noiseless sobs slowed and smoothed itself out. 

I _will make you worthwhile. I will make you something_.

“No,” Ryuji moaned, much too quiet for the dwellers of the outside world to note him. 

_You all invited me, did you not? Let me help you...but you alone._

The slithering voice inside Ryuji’s head brought in anxiety, then seemed to push it out. The tidal pattern went on for...however long had passed. 

_Do not fight me_ . _Embrace me. I alone can make you worthy._

At that final word, Ryuji couldn’t help but conjure the images of his close ones smiling at him. 

_Morgana would want me around…Ann, Ren-Ren, and Makoto would be proud...Yusuke, Haru, and Futaba would love me…_

_Mom would love me, would be proud of me, and would want me around._

A final tear fled from his chocolate eyes before they both slid shut. His sobs calmed and vanished, leaving him a smooth cycle of deep breaths. 

Who would’ve thought that a wish to insult the spirits would lead him here?

_That’s it...you are mine._

* * *

“Mwehehehe!”

Futaba trotted down the main street of Akihabara, her smile wide and her violet eyes sparkling. The ivory plastic bags were weighed down with cord-like rope, salt shakers, and a hefty omnibus of works from H.P. Lovecraft (yes, _that_ racist 1920s American author) but it was nothing that would bog down the young woman’s spirits. 

“Futaba Sakura has saved Halloween!” she mumbles to herself, stashing the Rosary and holy water bottle inside the bag with the thousand-page book. “Who would’ve thunk?!”

_Dah-da Dah-da Dah-Dah…_

“Oh, crap!” she groans. “There goes my phone!”

Catching the bags with her arms, Futaba uses her free hand and pulls out her phone from her costume’s “secret” little pocket.

A tap of the screen sent the phone right to her left ear. 

“Heeeelllo?” she spritely inquired. “Hey, Ann! How’s the - “

A halt in her tracks led her smile to drop, and the twinkle in her eyes vanished. 

“Aww, so I wasted my money on all this crap?!” she huffed. “Why did you end the seance just as I - “

As a calico cat sprinted past the tangerine-haired woman, her eyes grew wide, her pupils dilated with anxiety. 

“Sooo…” she murmured, “you guys left Ryuji alone up there?”

A light stamp of her foot and the shake of her head seem to trigger frustration.

“Honestly?” she huffed. “You guys are idiots. Why did you leave _Ryuji_ up there alone?”

Another pause allowed for Ann to clarify on the other line. Regardless of Ann’s excuses, Futaba wouldn’t have it. 

“I actually happened to look up ‘Ouija board’ stuff on the Internet,” she sighed. “You _do_ have to make sure you say goodbye to the things you summon before you go. So _for once_ Ryuji was smart on that end... _unless he was just going to insult them_.”

Futaba briskly smacked her head. 

“Wait, okay!” she hollered over the device. “Here’s my point: _is Ryuji okay_?!”

* * *

Ann’s eyes blinked twice, as a sheepish finger twirled around a lock of her platinum blonde hair. Slowly grazing over the cafe, she realized that Ryuji was still absent. 

“Erm…” Ann hesitated, “it seems he’s still up in the attic.”

“ _THEN GO GET HIM!”_ Futaba’s voice shrieked through her phone, stopping Haru from sipping her apple cider. 

“O-of course, Futaba-chan!” Ann fumbled about, standing from her seat at the booth. “We’ll go get him! _Don’t_ you worry! Ehehehe…”

A deadpanning ring moaned from her device, and Ann frowned to see that Futaba had hung up on her. 

“She’s pretty serious about this,” Ren murmured from behind the counter, pouring another glass of apple cider. 

“I mean,” Ann sighed, “she _did_ waste her money on the train ride to go get some weird stuff she wouldn’t use.” 

Her own gloved hand covered her bare stomach (barely missing the temporary pink tattoo near her hip), and her forehead gently wrinkled in reflection.

“I do feel bad, though,” Ann lamented. “Ryuji’s a moron, but he’s still our friend. We shouldn’t have left him alone.”

“Don’t depreciate yourself, Lady Ann!” Morgana insisted, before slowly moving his gaze toward the cropped black corset that hugged Ann’s chest. “Hehe...I’ve gotta say, though. You look very - “

_Flicker. Flicker._

Everyone looked up just as everything went black. 

“Oh, my!” Haru exclaimed, accidentally intruding on Makoto’s sudden whimpering. 

“W-w-where’s a flashlight?!” Makoto cried out in the darkness. 

_Creeak. Creeeeeeak._

“That’s...Ryuji, right?” Yusuke sniveled. 

_Creak. Creeeak._

“Uh…” Mona seemed to stumble, before he cried out, “Ryuji, will you say something?!”

_Creak._

_Click. Clack._

There was a light that flickered, then flashed permanently on. 

But it was dimmer than before. A very vague sense of lighting, much like a romantic restaurant at nighttime. 

All turned to the stairway. 

A silhouette resembling a sinewy young man they knew all too well stood in the dimness. 

Makoto seemed to breathe easy, much to everyone else’s delight. 

“Took you awhile,” Yusuke humorously mumbled, fidgeting with his white cloak. “You almost missed out on these warming beverages.” 

A shimmer made their heads turn back to the silhouette - and their gazes grew wide on the shimmering outline of a knife.

A large, clean butcher’s knife.

_Click._

_Clack._

“Stay back!” Ren cried to the shadow, fumbling with his hands in search of a defensive counter. It was as though he _knew_ what this meant. 

_Click._

_  
_ _Clack._

Slowly, the husk that seemed to be Ryuji crept forward, slowly cocking his head to his left shoulder. Everyone leapt from their seats and scrambled back toward the cafe exit. 

“R...Ryuji?!” Ann whimpered, her beautiful face growing paler by the second. “Where the hell did you get that knife?!”

Stepping into the dim light, Ryuji wasn’t quite...well, _Ryuji_. Etched into his fair skin were bizarre, lined marks that zigzagged from his jawline to the collarbone that peaked from his white shirt. Where once were warm, energetic chocolate irises that twinkled in his eyes, there was now a set of amethyst irises that hardened his lancing gaze. 

But perhaps the most saddening change was how this _thing_ had stripped Ryuji of his perky smile, or his fiery glares that stood up for the good of the world. Now, his face glowed a dark lack of poise. Neither unhinged nor calm, the thing that stood for Ryuji was there to harm - even kill. 

Slowly, his eyes panned over the rigid, frightened Thieves. First Ren, then Yusuke, then Morgana...then landed on Ann, who was just about to place her hand on the exit’s doorknob. His face lowered, yet his smile grew wide and downright sinister. 

“One can say I forged it from the blood of my previous victims,” he grumbled, his voice dark and raspy.

He looked down to the flawless sheen of the silver blade, as if with pride.

“Quite the enigma,” he mused, “that it is not even stained with blood.”

He quickly turned up, this time facing the defiant Ren Amamiya, who had just sneaked past the counter to defend Ann.

“I, Forneus, will _change_ that!” the demon hollered. 

In an instant, Ryuji’s form leapt towards Ren, pinning the other man against the wall. 

“REN!” Ann shrieked, close enough to start tugging at the arm that held the great knife. 

The blonde woman dug her stiletto heels into the ground, grasping tightly to the hilt just underneath the blade. 

Ren struggled to breathe from underneath the heavy body, but his dilated eyes were more focused on Ann cutting herself, even becoming “Forneus’s” next target for killing. 

Ann felt Haru’s presence dash past her, before Haru was clumsily pounding on Ryuji’s back. 

“Let them go!” she hollered, before a dark flash sent her and Ann tumbling back into the booths behind them. 

Ryuji’s head turned to the two girls, but his form never left its stance on Ren’s chest, let alone did he move his knife from him. 

“‘Them?’” he snidely chuckled. “Only one stands below me.”

Makoto sidled past the counter and took her stance before the downed girls, holding her arms up in basic defense. 

“You _know_ who else we mean,” her dark tone boomed. “That damned body doesn’t belong to you!”

“Ryuji is _gone_!” the demon bellowed, still never moving. “He gave himself up!”

Ren, struggling to move or even _breathe_ underneath the body kneeling atop his, interrogated, “The hell...do you... _mean_?”

Forneus laughed under his closed lips. His hand - now outlined in Ryuji’s veins - clutched tightly at his chest. 

“The reason I could even...put him to sleep?” he teased, finally pointing his blade to the cat that hid behind the counter. “Your _jeers_ brought him pain!”

Morgana stretched out his form, hissing at the monster. Yusuke had made his move here, quietly dashing to the pot of apple cider and back farther to the sink.

“Oh, _really_ ?!” Morgana cried out. “Like it’d ever phase Ryuji’s thick skull!”  
  


Yusuke, hastily emptying the old dandelion-colored pot, muttered to himself, “That’s _not_ going to help…”

Sure enough, Forneus lifted “his” chin and exhaled a sharp laughter. 

Two tears fell from each of Ann’s eyes, as she weakly crawled back to him and the suffocating Ren. 

Softer, almost empathetic, Forneus continued, “All he wanted was for you all to be happy and proud of him. He desired someone to love him.”

“Stop…” Ann meekly sobbed, pausing in her feeble tracks.

“Perhaps he did not mind all of your jeers,” Forneus pondered, almost condescendingly. “Yet they had built up by tonight, _much_ in thanks to your dear little Morgana…”

Everyone turned to the aforementioned cat, expecting a prideful quip.

In truth, Morgana seemed hesitant, shaking in his stance. He wasn’t ready to pounce to the rescue. He seemed...scared.

“And now,” Forneus sneered, “your precious Ryuji is gone.”

He slowly turned back to Ren below him, who’s breathing was growing raspy and desperate. He could no longer struggle. _He was dying_. 

Forneus raised his knife above the choking, barely-breathing body.

Ann could only mouth “No,” flopping down to the floor in defeat. Haru lurched forward. 

Yusuke whirled around, his gray eyes wide and _terrified_. 

Makoto leapt forward, screaming “NO!” The brunette woman managed to grab Forneus’s hand with the knife. 

The struggle began, though Makoto barely had a good grip on his knuckles. And just - 

_Ring, ring!_

_Creeaaak._

Everyone turned to the entrance door. As it shut, Futaba’s petite form entered the cafe meekly, bags in hand. 

She turned to Yusuke in the back. She looked down to her left, seeing Haru and Ann in tears. 

Then, she turned to the dramatic still toward her right. 

Futaba lurched back.  
  
“FUCK!” she hollered.

Everything set back into motion. 

Yusuke, pot in hand, sprinted toward Ren and Makoto.

Morgana leapt onto Forneus, scratching at his back. Ann and Haru followed him, attempting to pull the possessed body off Ren.

Futaba just backed to the back wall, eyes dilated with anxiety.

“It’s...just like…” she chattered, “a horror movie! _If The Characters Actually Fought Back!_ ”

“Sorry, Ryuji!” Yusuke bellowed, whamming the pot at Ryuji’s back. 

Lurching and roaring from the hit, Ryuji’s body was dragged back, providing Ren relief and breath. 

Makoto jumped back to Futaba, losing her police cap, and grabbing the other’s bags. 

“What did you buy?!” Makoto shakily murmured to her. 

“U-Um…” Futaba hesitated, “I got salt...and, um, some ropes…and - “

The two turned at the muffled scream before them. Haru had clasped Ryuji’s agape mouth with her gloved hand, her lovely face contorting in sobs. 

“Ryuji, _fight it_!” she wailed. “We love you!” 

In the corner of the wall, Yusuke and Ren huddled beside one another. Fear laced Yusuke’s handsome face…

And Ren was _crying_. 

Makoto and Futaba turned back to each other, nodding. 

  
“Rope first!” Makoto ordered.

* * *

The attic roared with Forneus’s wails, practically pleading for release. 

“Couldn’t you have bought a gag or muffler thing for him?!” Morgana hollered over the shrieks, hiding behind the side of the couch away from Ren’s bed. 

“Sorry, Mona!” Futaba approached the cat, scooping him up and holding him close, protectively. “This was the best I could do!”

The two turned nervously to the scene on Ren’s bed. Ryuji’s flailing body was tied down, the rope extending around the vertical width several times. Haru was making cursory work of the rope’s ends, tying them together so as to secure the long-sought work.

It had been a tiring and dreadful few minutes. Futaba and Morgana, both in absolute shock, took it upon themselves to lay everything out on the attic floor, whereas the others had a hand (or two) in dragging Ryuji up the stairs, holding him down until they could untangle the poorly wrapped cords and wrangle it around him. It was a relieving oddity that Forneus never conjured a spell to set him free.

It was a makeshift setting, even for how Futaba thought she had seen something like this coming. It could do the basics of holding the possessed down and (hopefully) impairing the host from the demon. Even then, Futaba prayed that it’d be enough to allow success.

Above all, everyone just wanted Ryuji back. He was a clumsy boy with a different sense of humor and a fiery anger issue, but it was clear he loved them dearly.

They loved him, too. But clearly, they needed to be even _just a little_ better if they wanted him back. After all the abuse he’d gone through, he just needed a group to call family. He wanted friends - those of which would be his _family_. 

Forneus seemed to calm down, or at least begin to lose his strength. He stopped screaming, and the only movement he made was the aggressive rise and fall of his chest. 

Makoto, taking her time, used two of her dainty fingers against Ryuji’s neck, checking for a pulse.

A long pause was only made noisy through Forneus’s harsh puffs. Perhaps the pressure at the host’s neck brought familiarity to the victim inside? Nobody could guarantee it.

Makoto rose and pivoted back to the group, a melancholy expression etched into her face. 

“I think he’ll be fine,” Makoto sighed, “if we get this done quickly.”

“You’re _too late_ , brats!” Forneus’s howls rose up again. “He was long gone since you first saw what is _now me!_ ”

Ann slowly rose from the couch. Her face was fiery and livid, much like an icy queen before execution of the prisoner. 

“Didn’t you say before he was asleep?” she slowly spat. “You’re bluffing. We’ll get him back, so struggle all you want.”

As though Forneus could see through the depths of Ann’s soul, he emitted a toothy grin. 

“You’re _afraid_ ,” he hissed. “You are _all_ afraid. You only realize now it’s too late to get back your friend.”

Ren turned to Ann, praying her glare was staying strong and impervious. 

It was cracking. A tear cascaded down her face, and she was seething through her magenta-coated lips. 

“But do not fret,” Forneus cooed. “You all can apologize...as I watch you burn in the depths of Hell.”

Ann’s face crinkled in anger and disgust. She emitted a sob, and just like that, she collapsed to her knees. Haru immediately fled to her side, her orange hat flying off her floofy hair.

“Ryuji, please,” the blonde moaned, facing back at her restrained friend. “Wake up! Help us out!”

Futaba had released Morgana and was hastily typing something on her phone. 

“C’mon, _come on_ ,” she growled at her device. 

  
Forneus smirked, prideful, at Ann’s shaking frame. Not even Haru could calm her down, though Ann clutched the other’s hand.

Yusuke tapped Ren on the shoulder, holding out a nearly-empty salt shaker. 

“Salt has been delicately arranged around the borders,” he reported. “What is next?”

The raven-haired man turned to Forneus, who caught him in his own eyes. 

“We’re getting our friend back,” he seethed, motioning to Futaba. “Got something ready?”

Futaba quickly nodded her head, holding out her screen. 

“I have some Christian stuff in Latin!” she beamed.  
  


“Um,” Makoto pondered, “does anyone even know how to _read_ Latin?”

Futaba rolled her eyes, muttering ‘Fuck’ under her breath before proceeding to type further. 

“Futaba, what?!” Morgana cried out, before briskly hitting his head with his front paw. “I-I mean...no, that’s not the point right now!”

Ignoring the cat, Futaba held out her screen once more. 

“How about this?” Futaba huffed. “It’s supposed to be said by a priest, but - “

“ENOUGH PLAYING AROUND!” a high, distorted voice shrieked. 

Without further warning, everyone turned as the cords stretched to their limits via Ryuji’s bodily struggles. 

“Oh, _crap!_ ” Futaba yelped, running to her bag. “Where is that _Crucifix_?!”

_SNAP!_

  
The ropes collapsed under the bed. Forneus turned to the group in victory.

“Not again!” Haru screamed. 

“Everyone, hold him down!” Ren hollered, taking firm grasp of Ryuji’s wrist. 

Ann and Haru clutched Ryuji’s ankles, the skin bare as they pulled up the black dress pants. 

As Futaba fumbled through the bag and found the Crucifix, she stopped in her tracks. 

“Waiiiit,” she murmured. “I feel like we lost sight of something…”

“Hurry, Futaba!” Makoto cried, before she turned back around and pressed aggressively down on Ryuji’s stomach. 

And yet, the moment the idea struck her, Futaba wouldn’t have it. 

The newly-discovered Crucifix was in her hands, but she never held it up. Her glare was furious and bold, putting those of her fellow Thieves to shame. 

“ _Quit FREAKING OUT!”_ she screamed. 

Everyone - even Forneus - abruptly turned to face her. 

The tears broke from Futaba’s eyes. 

“First of all,” she stumbled about, “have y’all ever even seen a horror movie? When everyone is scared and fearful, that leads to nothing. If anything, they end up dying. We can’t let this asshole win _now_!”

“What are you talking about?!” Ann whimpered, before a sharp movement of Ryuji’s ankle sent her focus back on him. 

“It knows we’re afraid,” Futaba continued, “because we’re still showing a lot of signs of fear. Whether we know it or not! But the truth is - “

_Sniffle_.

It came where Forneus should be.

Futaba sobbed in reply.

“Someone else here is more scared than _any_ of us,” she cried, before her tears froze her in place. 

Everyone turned.

The markings over Ryuji’s skin were fading, as raw bunches of tears streamed down the temples of his eyes. 

“I’m...sorry…” a familiar voice cried, weak, quiet, and raspy.

All bodily motions from anyone and everyone stopped. 

“I thought…” Ryuji mewled, his chocolate eyes returning, “I could...make up...for...everything.” 

Yusuke, only now allowing his tears to release, clumsily rested his hand on Ryuji’s forehead. 

“Fight this,” he whispered to his good friend. “You can rest then.” 

Ryuji feverishly shook his head. 

“I don’t wanna die…” he wept.

“We won’t let you,” Ren tightly clasped Ryuji’s wrist in response. 

Ryuji inhaled sharply, before the markings returned and his mouth dropped in a loud cry. 

“How _dare_ you!” Forneus thundered. “You cannot have him back!”  
  


Something seemed to boil inside Ren. Not anything resembling a demon, though, but a pure, raw ache for his first friend since moving. One he could always rely on - like a true _brother._

But Futaba shoved past him first.

“By the power of God,” she seethed, before crying out at the monster before them, “ _we condemn Forneus back to hell!_ ”

There was no roar or final struggle. Despite the demon’s final protest, the traits he emblazoned on Ryuji’s body - the markings, the glowing eyes, the dark expressions - faded into nothing.

* * *

It was only seconds before Ryuji, his eyes still closed, let out a feeble sigh. 

“Thank goodness!” Haru wailed, before collapsing onto Ryuji’s legs. 

“Step back, everyone,” Ren calmly ordered.

Even so, everyone couldn’t take themselves away from Ryuji, lying peacefully in Ren’s bed. 

“G...guys?” Ryuji mouthed, tilting his head toward them. 

Ann feverishly jumped onto the bed and hugged at the relaxed body. Her wails were loud, sad, and powerful.

“RYUJI!” she whined. “You’re _never_ touching a Ouija board again!”

She pulled back, just to see the man under her grimace.  
  


“We love you so much,” she whispered to him, clasping his waist once more. 

“Lady Ann…” Morgana, standing atop Ren’s work desk, lamented.

And even tears outlined the lower rims of those beady, little blue eyes. 

“I LOVE YOU, RYUJI!” he cried, leaping toward the bed and nuzzling his head against Ryuji’s neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you! _I love you SO MUCH, Ryuji_!”

A weak groan fumbled from Ryuji’s lips. 

“Damn, I love you guys, too…” he whispered, his eyes staying relaxed and shut. “I need...sleep…”

Ryuji Sakamoto only remembered the horrifying action (or even lack thereof) during that dreadful episode. He knew they’d have to have a further discussion about everything later.

But even in his lack of consciousness, Ryuji had never felt more loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I did want to try my hand at a legitimately horrific work. That, or make it a satire of horror, where Futaba especially knows everything (as referenced in certain bits of this work). 
> 
> But for one, I felt I wasn't quite ready for that. In addition, I had just gotten off of Ryuji doing a COOL thing in P5R's third semester, and it got me thinking that he's been the punching bag of the group a few too many times, even when it was absolutely uncalled for. 
> 
> That's where the main idea for this final product came about. It's much more angsty than I could've dreamed of it being before. However, it felt much better to have my third public piece about Ryuji breaking down from the culmination of jabs and even crass insults up to that Halloween night. 
> 
> As always, feel free to let me know what you think in the comments.
> 
> Have a great and far safer Halloween!


End file.
